The Scenarios in the Delivery
by ProfeJMarie
Summary: A series of one-shots reflecting scenarios for the arrival of Baby Brennan-Booth.
1. Surety

_**Surety**_

How quickly people around him forget about his job and his past training. Yes, he is protective – and, he begrudgingly acknowledges – sometimes _over_protective of Brennan to the extent that it looks like he is panicking.

His heart is racing when it is time to take Brennan to the hospital and this comes through in his words. He talks a little too fast and tries to move her along just quickly enough that she gives him that perfect annoyed expression that he knows just a little too well.

But it's "go time" and Booth knows how to handle situations like these. He is calm and assured.

He knows, though would never admit it to anyone, that he has earned that annoyed expression from Brennan even more than usual during this pregnancy. They had traveled such a long road to get to where they were now, together and confidently content, that he has done things that counted as hovering and overstepping his bounds in a misguided attempt to "make things right".

But in these attempts, he has actually done things right, too.

And now, as she attempts her third position in as many minutes, he leans in close, as he loves to do, and smiles into her eyes. He waits, but his patience is pretty much only limited to sniper situations and nothing else, so he kisses her, although he is thinking that one of these days when he leans in, she will kiss him first.

Giving birth does not frighten her; in fact, she has made it abundantly clear to him along the way how natural it all is, which is where some of the annoyed looks have originated when he has argued the natural tendencies fathers have to look out for the mother of their children. As she weathers the contractions that have increased in frequency and intensity, he admires how calm and focused she is. He considers himself luckier than most fathers-to-be in that Brennan can tell him exactly where he should apply counter pressure on her back, even if it does not offer much relief overall.

The contractions come right on top of each other and before his own brain can recall it, Brennan is already reminding him in gasping breaths that she is in transition; she will be ready to push soon. He strokes her head, gets a quick shake of her head to stop, then moves his hand to wrap around the other one that is already grasping hers. He gives a gentle squeeze and tells her to look into his eyes and helps her regain the measured inhale and exhale that she needs to get through this stage that seems uncontrollable.

And then the contractions shift, and even he can tell that they have changed. He feels a giddy excitement at what is to come; they will see their baby soon. But he sees her eyes suddenly become fearful. At first he worries that the pain has taken her by surprise, but then he recognizes that her fear is not physical, but emotional. In the moments they have before she must push with the contractions and in between, she shares her fears that the baby will not feel and understand how much she will love it. She says the wrong thing all of the time, what if others misunderstand this and think that she does not love the baby the way she should? What if she can't give the baby what it needs? It took her so long to trust her heart with him, what if it takes too long to do the same with the baby?

If he is honest, a small part of him wants to laugh at these sudden fears that to him are so ridiculously off the mark with what he knows to be true about her. But as he has done so many times before, he looks at her seriously and earnestly and tells her that just as she taught him that the baby could hear them already, the baby has also heard the love in her voice and in her words.

He tells her that the only opinions that matter are from those who already know how much she loves their child, no matter what words come from her mouth.

As for trust? She has clearly already crossed that threshold. He reminds her that he trusts her with all of his heart that she will be an amazing mom. And his voice catches as he says this. She gives him a tearful smile and they agree to breathe together as the next wave of contractions arrive. It is the final wave, the one that will finally bring their child into the world and give the final seal to their joined hearts.

There is no panic. They are ready.


	2. Marathon

_**Marathon**_

_**A/N I had kind of meant for one of my lighter-hearted scenarios to come next, but this one took over. Which sounds ominous. Bu let me assure you, none of my scenarios end tragically. :D**_

"You're a scientist for God's sake. Take the damn drugs."

"And because I'm a scientist is why I know I don't need those drugs. Maybe _you_ need some drugs, instead. You seem quite agitated. I could teach you some different yoga positions to help you calm yourself."

The words were rational, and her tone was _almost_ rational, except it was tinged with exhaustion. She was in the later stages of active labor and had been now for almost 18 hours with no imminent end in sight.

Booth had an irritated retort on the tip of his tongue, but another contraction was coming and the comment faded away as he wrapped his arm around hers and joined her with slow, measured breaths. She'd been fantastically focused and controlled, but in the last hour the fatigue had started to affect her and she had benefited from Booth joining her with breathing through the contraction rather than simply cheerleading.

"Okay, coming down now." He counted down from ten, as the contraction faded away, and reached for the cool washcloths to rest upon her forehead and along the back of her neck.

"You're exhausted," Booth tried again, in a more even tone. "When it comes time to finally push this baby out, I'm worried you're not going to have enough energy."

"I'm quite strong. If you need to go drink a Red Bull or something, now is a good time to do it."

"You're the strongest person I know. Stop trying to push this back on me. I'm not going anywhere. I know you're strong, but come on. You can't tell me that even some Cocaroca tribe somewhere didn't use some weed or something to help with pain."

She rolled her eyes at him and he might have laughed inwardly at her if he weren't so worried about her.

"There's no such thing as—"

"—as the Cocaroca tribe. I know."

He tried to push down his impatience and frustration. He was tired, too, but he knew it couldn't compare to how Brennan was feeling, made worse by the fact that she was expending so much energy pretending she _wasn't_ so worn out.

Brennan, not surprisingly, had been working on the lab platform when the contractions had first started. Booth, however, didn't find out about it until he arrived at the lab about two hours in and nearly blew a gasket when he found out how long she had been in labor without telling him.

"The contractions are six minutes apart. There is no point in going to the hospital yet. The arrival of the baby won't be for quite awhile, so I might as well use the time productively. We still haven't found cause of death."

Angela and Cam had given Booth sympathetic smiles and Hodgins had tried to cut back his chuckling, especially after the murderous glance Booth shot him, but still snorts of laughter slipped out. He'd left the platform after Angela signaled him off.

"Cam?" Booth had looked at her pleadingly.

She'd merely shook her head. "I hear Paul tell women all the time that they should stay at home as long as possible because it's more comfortable."

"But not so long that she almost has the baby _here_? And _home_. Did you hear that, Bones? Home. Not at the lab working over a dead body."

"Four to five minutes," Cam rushed out before Booth could explode. "When contractions are four to five minutes apart is when Paul recommends expectant mothers to come in."

Almost none of what had transpired in front of her surprised Brennan. She knew Booth would be antsy and that was why she did not call him right away. Cam's basic show of support was a little unexpected, but certainly appreciated. It had saved her the time of explaining everything to Booth. Brennan had chosen to stay out of the conversations as long as possible. The contractions hadn't been too bad, but were strong enough to break her concentration while studying the bones in front of her and she wanted to reach some sort of conclusion as quickly as possible.

Booth had paced and belted out irritated and impatient requests that they go to the hospital. Angela had helped by timing out the contractions and Cam did what she could to keep Booth under control.

When they finally did make it to the hospital, Booth had calmed down considerably and his attentiveness and sensitivity became prevalent once more. They had slipped into a communication and rhythm that marked how well they knew each other.

But that was hours ago. Bickering was bordering on arguing and Booth wasn't wrong that she was trying to deflect her own pain and impatience onto him. She couldn't deny that she had expected labor to go just exactly like she had read. Most of the pregnancy had followed the rules and the books said that active labor usually lasted about 12 hours. They were six hours past that mark and she wanted to cry from exhaustion and frustration. But she also _didn't_ want to cry, and the best way to do that was to keep Booth irritated so that _she_ would be irritated.

Unfortunately, Booth was starting to see through this and the first chink in her armor revealed itself as her tears started falling when the next contraction came. She tried to focus on Booth, who was trying to get her to breathe with him, but she'd lost control, and couldn't get on top of the contraction, which made her cry harder and feel like this one would never end. She felt Booth's hand gently direct her face to his, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Bones. You can do this. C'mon," he put her hand on his chest, "breathe with me."

Feeling his heart and looking into his confident eyes, she concentrated, regaining the control she had lost. They made it through the contraction together. He helped wipe her tears away and gave her a gentle kiss.

"You are fighting so hard, but I don't understand why. It can't really be that you are worried about the baby?"

It was almost enough for the tears to come again, but she shoved them away in annoyance. She did not want to cry. It took too much energy, and Booth was right about losing energy, which annoyed her further.

She didn't know if she could explain her feelings. But she could see that he was no longer irritated, but increasingly worried. She didn't like it when he worried about her – not like this, anyway. But she had to try to tell him before the next contraction came which would end with him worrying more or returning him to frustration.

"I want to feel it. I want to feel it all. Angela and Hodgins – they knew they wanted children. Most couples plan for children. This baby wasn't a plan—" She groaned in frustration as another contraction came, interrupting the thoughts that were not coming out of her mouth like she wanted. "Booth…"

"I know. Shh. Shh." He breathed with her. Counted for her. She vocalized her exhales in low tones, like the midwife had taught her. She felt Booth's forehead gently meet hers afterward.

"I don't want to miss anything—"

"—because we've missed so much as it is," Booth finished for her and she nodded, grateful that he understood.

He pulled back for a moment and took off his shoes. "You're right. Let's do this together. Let's not miss a single moment more."

It was no easy feat, but Booth managed to slide behind Brennan in the bed, straddling her. "I will help be your strength. Take both my hands. Lean into me. We can do this, right?"

And with almost 19 hours gone by – and over seven years – Brennan felt like she was just beginning. Carrying Booth's child had been wonderful and frightening.

But now, in this moment, she thought of her own words long ago; with Booth and their baby, she was ready to fly.


	3. Haste

_**Haste**_

In the middle of nowhere. That, of course, was where Brennan's water had to break, followed straightaway with contractions coming at only a minute apart. They had been on their way to a crime scene, over three hours away, and Booth cursed himself for not being able to convince Brennan that the remains could be brought to the lab. He should have just given the techs the go-ahead and accepted Brennan's wrath later.

Their faces mirrored each other in initial panic. Even the cool-headed, rational scientist could not help pausing for a moment to experience the complete surprise in the direction this pregnancy had suddenly taken before returning to the logical approach to the situation.

Booth turned on his siren and was trying to plug information into the console computer to help him find the nearest hospital when Brennan managed to order him, between the powerful labor pains, to pull over.

"Booth. You're going to make us crash. That is not good for the baby."

"And having it out here in the middle of nowhere is?"

"I agree it is not ideal," she paused to close her eyes and focused on relaxing and making it through the contraction. "But," she continued, "giving birth does not actually require a hospital."

"Yeah, okay, I know you said that women in the past have just 'squatted in the field' then kept working afterwards, but that doesn't mean that's what _should_ happen, okay? I'm a good driver; I've got the siren. Let me get us to the safety of a hospital."

"_Oh_," Brennan gave a gentle gasp, and she felt Booth's hand slip into hers. "There's no time, Booth," she breathed out and involuntarily squeezed his hand in a vice-like grip.

To his credit, he did not grimace at her grip. Instead, his worry only increased. What if something went wrong? What if the baby didn't come out like it was supposed to? What if something happened to Brennan during the birth? What then? He was supposed to be able to handle any emergency situation, and how often had he been in dangerous situations and barely felt any traces of fear? And now, suddenly, he was terrified.

As the contraction subsided, Brennan looked over to see Booth's worried expression. She rested her head back on the seat as she looked at him reassuringly, but was unable to give him the words he needed as yet another contraction overtook her. She squeezed his hand again, and somehow this was enough to propel him into action.

"Okay, okay." He jumped out of the SUV and dialed Cam's number as he raced around to Brennan's door. "C'mon, Bones. Let me help you out. You're right. Who needs a hospital, right? That's not our style. We'll just—"

Brennan gave him a weak smile as Cam's voice came through Booth's phone, interrupting him.

"Booth, are you two at the crime scene already?"

"No. But we need your help." He paused as he guided Brennan's arm around his shoulders and wrapped one of his around her waist. "Alright. I got you, Bones. Let's go."

"Booth? Is Dr. Brennan alright? What's going on?"

Booth had only gotten Brennan to a standing position when she'd needed to stop, lean on him, and work through another contraction. It was a painstakingly long and halted conversation, but Booth managed to fill Cam in on the situation and guide Brennan a few feet away to a tree she had pointed at. Booth tried to argue for the back of the SUV, Brennan said there wasn't enough room, and Cam ordered Booth to do exactly as Brennan wanted and to get her as comfortable as possible on the ground with the tree as support.

Getting from the SUV to the tree that was only a few feet away seemed to take an eternity, in spite of the urgent nature of the situation. Contractions were coming so frequently and powerfully that it was extremely difficult for Brennan to walk through them.

"Okay. It's okay, Bones. We'll get there."

"I assure you, Booth, that it is all okay. In fact, I am quite pleased with the strength of these contractions. I believe that means I should have no trouble pushing the baby out."

At these words, Booth blanched. Push the baby _out_. Out into where? Oh God. _He_ was going to have to catch the baby. That reality hadn't hit him until just now. They finally managed to get Brennan settled on the ground with Booth's jacket cushioning her back against the rough bark edges of the tree. Booth stepped away for just a moment to rasp into the phone, "Cam. You gotta help me out."

"Seeley, what exactly is it that you are thinking I can do, here?"

"You're a medical doctor, _Camille_," he said in impatience.

"Do you know how many specialties there are in the medical field, Seeley?"

"Fine! What about Paul? Where is he?"

"Coincidentally, in the middle of one of his own patient's births. I'll help you. I'm just not an expert, okay?"

"Booth, this baby is coming whether you can handle it or not," Brennan panted out, desperately fighting the urge to push.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God. Right. Okay." He wiped his brow even though there wasn't anything to wipe away. The situation he feared most had not magically disappeared by this gesture. This was really happening. _How_ was this happening? Couldn't anything go like it should with them?

He quickly pulled random supplies from the truck, rejoined Brennan, and helped her prepare. Another five minutes that felt like thirty and Brennan was ready with a blanket across the top of her as a concession to Booth's own vision of modesty.

"You should double check to see if she's fully dilated before we have her start pushing," Cam told him.

"How do I do that?"

As Cam described what to do, Booth blanched. "I have to do what?"

"Booth," Brennan gasped in exasperation, "it isn't as if your fingers haven't been there before."

"Not like _this_." In a hushed whisper he added, "And not all of them at the same time."

"Buck up, Seeley, and just do it," Cam admonished him.

He took a deep breath and did as he was told, confirming what they already knew: Brennan could push whenever she was ready.

"I'm sorry," Booth said quietly.

"It didn't hurt, Booth."

"No, not about that… well yeah actually about that, but also about getting us stranded out here, and about the timing of everything."

"Booth."

"For rushing you. For almost missing our chance. Because I'm still that guy, Bones, I'm still that guy. I don't care if you can't see it. I still can, and I'm sorry I let other things, other people get in the way."

Brennan had no response for him as her contractions had changed, and the first wave of the ones that would help introduce their baby to the world overtook her. They both heard Cam counting to ten in a loud voice, then stop and count again. Before she finished the second count, the contraction faded and Brennan leaned back against the tree again, breathing heavily, then met Booth's eyes. Her gaze was already showing signs of weariness from the fast and frantic pace her body was working at. But it was filled with a gentleness and compassion.

Seeing her expression, Booth didn't need any words, didn't want any. She needed to conserve her energy. He merely took her hands into his own and said, "I love you. Whether you like it or not, whether you believe it or not, I will always love you, and will never leave you."

"I love you, too." Brennan was almost thankful for the next wave of contractions, saving her from the high emotion of the moment, not realizing the intensity of emotions yet to come.

Cam's voice came through again, counting in a suddenly fuzzier voice, and Booth wanted to laugh for forgetting that she was still there. And he might have, if he hadn't seen the most amazing thing of his entire life at that moment.

"Bones! Bones! I can see the head! Oh God, it's amazing. You're doing _great_."

And with the next push, out came the rest of the head, shoulders, and suddenly, their baby was _here_. With tears of joy, he lifted the baby onto Brennan's lap, and moved next to her, feeling nothing but awe at his new child and the amazing woman that brought that child into his life.

Brennan could only feel Booth's presence next to her, because she only had eyes for the tiny life in front of her. And in that tiny life, and in that presence next to her, she thought about how Booth said he was "that guy", but what he didn't know was that she was now also that woman.

_**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**_

_**A/N: In case you by chance doubt the realistic nature of labor happening this fast, I assure you, it can and did to a very dear friend of mine. She was at home and very near to the hospital, so did not have to give birth in the middle of nowhere, but babies come when they come. ;-)**_


	4. Reassurance

_**Reassurance**_

She lay on her left side, in the early morning hours – so early it was still dark as night, and floated along the contraction. They were not very strong yet, but she had automatically begun tracking them as soon as the first one woke her up. They had been fairly regular for over an hour now at about seven and half minutes apart.

Booth laid facing away from her, still sleeping soundly. She let her eyes focus on him for awhile. She liked to study him while he slept; she found it very soothing. When he slept, his body was finally completely relaxed and showed little movement unlike his awake state, where some part of him was always active. She remembered making some sort of comment about it to Sweets a long time ago, and he had told her it was a coping mechanism, a way to keep a rein on his emotions. He was likely unaware of his actions, having sublimated the coping technique many years ago.

But now, now he was still but for his steady, rhythmic breaths. The ones that she knew he would want to help her maintain when the contractions became stronger. And she knew she should wake him now, that he would want to be part of every moment. She wanted him to be part of this, too, and she wanted to wake him, but not just yet. She wanted these moments, these final moments of being as close to on her own as she would probably ever have again. Angela was right about how she had felt nervous from her family and foster family past. Booth was right about how they were a family now. But in spite of all this, she liked the moments she did not have to share with anyone, the moments that were still hers and hers alone.

Seven minutes. The interval between the contractions had decreased that time.

She was glad that Booth's back was to her, because if she saw his face, even if his eyes were closed, she would have felt the pull to wake him right away. She still had time. But not much, and this sent a sudden wave of panic through her. She would never be alone again. There would be continual demands for her attention, continual expectations that she do and say the right thing. What if just being herself wasn't enough? She felt most sure of herself when she was on her own. There was no one to dictate what she should feel or do. And now, for as much as she already loved her daughter, this soon-to-be newborn would become yet another person in charge of her behavior.

Booth stirred, rolled onto his back, and his face turned to hers, though he still slept. Even with his eyes closed, they were reassuring and calmed her fears. It also made her realize that she was ready to share the experience with him. She placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Booth."

His eyes opened immediately and she could see the recognition in his expression. He jumped out of bed. "What? Is it time?" She smiled as she watched him scramble to find his pants and when she started chuckling at him, he paused and looked at her. "It's not time?"

"I am having contractions, yes, and they are evenly spaced apart so yes, I believe labor has started."

"Okay, so do you want me to help you get dressed?"

"No. Labor has started, Booth, but it's not time to go."

He stood uncertainly, clothes in his hand. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Okay." He stood a moment more before dropping his clothes and slid back into bed next to her. "So… you woke me so I could share this with you?"

"Yes. Although, I admit that I didn't wake you right away. I've been experiencing the contractions for 93 minutes. Does that upset you?"

He smiled that crooked grin of his that she secretly believed he only did for her. "No. Just… are you okay?"

She was going to say she felt quite well and that her body was responding adequately to the situation, but stopped herself as she realized that this was not what he meant. "You mean am I okay emotionally? You want to make sure that the fact that I chose not to wake you was not because of some difficult emotional mood that I was experiencing?" Seeing his amused grin, she continued, "Yes, Booth. I am okay." She placed a hand on his chest. "I am a little concerned about you, however. Your heart is beating at a very high rate and you've been taking very rapid, shallow breaths."

He chuckled. "I'm excited, Bones. We're going to see our daughter today. And I'm nervous. I feel like we should be going to the hospital right now."

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"I'd rather spend this time with you here, in the quiet of our home while we can before losing what is ours to everyone else."

He took her hand from his chest. "This will always be ours. No one can take that away from us. But I will trust you that we don't have to go just yet. I'm just glad you didn't leave without me and decide to just call me after she was born."

His eyes twinkled at her, convincing her that he was joking. She smiled, then exclaimed, "_Oh._"

"Oh? What? Are you okay?"

"Yes. That last contraction was stronger. But it's okay. That's exactly what is supposed to happen."

"Do you want to get up and move around? Want me to help you change positions? What can I do?"

"I will, but not yet. I like this, lying here with you." In truth, she was starting to get a little uncomfortable having been in one position for so long, but Booth always talked about having their "moments" and this seemed like one to her. She was reluctant to break it.

"Booth?"

"Yeah?"

"I would never have chosen to do this part without you."

"I was joking before, Bones. I know you wouldn't."

"I know you were joking, but I'm not choosing to do this with you for your sake. I want you to be here with me. Even when I want to be alone and do things on my own, I don't actually want to be without you." She sighed in frustration at not being able to explain what she meant. "That makes no logical sense, I know—"

"I get it. And according to you I'm not logical, right? Which means I understood exactly what you meant. I'm always gonna be here, okay?"

"Even when I tell you to go away and leave me alone?"

"I'll always come back. I always have, haven't I?"

"You'll come back because of our daughter."

"I'm that guy, Bones. Remember? I'll come back because of you." He held her gaze. "Right?"

"Yes," she told him.

"Will you be really annoyed with me if I kissed you right now?"

"I'd like that very much. And then I'd like very much to get up and get ready to go to the hospital since my water broke a couple of minutes ago."

"What? Geez, Bones, why didn't you say something?" He jumped up again to get dressed.

"I believe I said something just now. But, Booth," she added in a complaining tone as she pushed herself up to a sitting position.

"What?"

"You forgot the kiss."

He came around to her, leaned in and placed his hands along her hips. "I love you."

He grinned widely when she replied before accepting his kiss, "I know."


	5. Familiar

_**Familiar**_

"Booth." He answered his phone like he always did, even when he knew it was her calling. Seemingly a habit he'd never tried to break. It was solid and consistent. Reassuring. And reassuring is what she wanted right now.

She didn't want to admit that she actually needed it, but she was feeling wildly irrational and just hearing his voice - that one word - already calmed her. She'd found excuses to call him more frequently than usual over the past two weeks, using lab information as a front most of the time. At one time Booth seemed to sense that her professional call was actually personal and questioned her. Likely he had always known, but his impatience finally won out.

Even then she could not bring herself to admit to him that she just wanted to hear his voice. To have that physical evidence of him throughout the day. And even then, she could hear the smile in his voice when he backed off at her denials of anything wrong.

Somehow Angela figured it out, too. She walked in on one of those phone calls and gave her that look she always does when she feels like she knows more about what Brennan is feeling than Brennan herself. She found it annoying, even if Angela validated her uncertain emotions most of the time.

"I didn't like being separated from Hodgins when I got really close to my time, either," Angela placated. "I was ready for Michael to come, but at the same time I wasn't at all ready, you know?"

Brennan shook her head, nonplussed. "No, I don't know. I find that paradoxical descriptions usually reflect a person's excuse to be vague and inaccurate. I don't find them useful at all."

"Okay, so it's like I really wanted Michael to come. We had everything ready for him and I was really excited to see him. But sometimes I would think about how scary it was, too. What if he cried all the time and I couldn't soothe him? What if I drop him? What if I find out it's too hard?"

"That is a better description of your feelings and not at all the same as what you tried to tell me before. You felt excited sometimes and scared other times."

Angela leaned back, pulled into her chest the file folder she was holding, and gave Brennan a smile. "Yes. And isn't that what you've been feeling, too?"

Brennan thought this over. "I do feel excitement about when our daughter will be old enough to appreciate the artifacts in museums. I look forward to showing her what all of the bones in her body look like and how each of them contribute to our movement."

"And?"

"I'm quite sure I will not drop the baby, and there are many ways to soothe a crying baby. She will stop crying eventually."

"Right," Angela smirked, "babies do. But I might remind you of this conversation in another month. So what is it, then?"

"What do you mean?"

"Babe, we both know you didn't need to call Booth with that information you just gave him. It wasn't anything that would really help him. So there was some other reason."

Brennan hadn't wanted to share the real reason with Angela. She couldn't explain why she didn't want to, but the wall went back up, and she'd brushed Angela off.

That first Christmas…that _particular_ first Christmas, she'd run down the stairs, positive of what she would see, and more importantly, of what she would hear. But there had been nothing. No quiet conversations over morning coffee. No scrapes of a chair moving back from the table. No crinkling or crisp sounds of the newspaper pages folding or flipping through the air. No laughter.

No return of her parents.

She knew that Booth would not leave her. He would not leave their daughter. However, at one time she had also felt sure that her parents would never leave. She recognized that the situations were different. She was not a naïve fifteen. Booth was not the same kind of man as Max. Booth will stay. Of this she was certain.

And yet.

She once told Booth that he had reassuring brown eyes. It had always been his eyes that truly kept her confident in his words, in spite of when she knew his words to be false. His eyes always conveyed his sincerity of thought and intention.

His voice was the next best thing when she did not have his eyes to reassure her in those brief moments when she felt overwhelmed by how her life had changed and was about to change. Because of these changes, his strong, professional voice in the middle of the day, unsuspecting of her motives, proved even better than his eyes. He was an excellent listener, but an even better observer. The one minute professional exchanges achieved their goal. The unreasonable worry dissipated, a fleeting moment quickly forgotten.

And in this moment, everything was about to irrevocably change. She needed the familiar sound.

"Booth." He answered his phone. Solid. Consistent. Reassuring.

"It's time," she told him.


End file.
